


Sing your song for me

by zation



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2018 [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Coming In Pants, Confused Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, First Time, Frottage, Grinding, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Monster of the Week, Oblivious Sam Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Plot-centric, Season 8, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2018, bottoming and topping is up for interpretation but I guess top Dean?, mild spoilers up until season 8, original character death, trying to imitate an episode lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-11 21:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15980906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zation/pseuds/zation
Summary: Dean and Sam head into town, intent on hunting the monster of the week while they wait for Kevin to translate more of the demon tablet. You know, normal stuff like that.Or,The one where Cas is acting stranger than usual. Or is he?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m setting this in season 8 (after the episode Hunteri Heroici), only because I want Cas to be fully angel and I usually put fics like that in season 4/early season 5 so I wanna show to myself that I _can_ be versatile lol
> 
> Also, attentive SPN fans will know (by the time we get to the end) that I’m taking some liberties with the monster lore in this fic. I hope you’ll forgive me *crosses fingers*
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Square filled: Case fic**

 

 

“So Dean, get this.”

Dean groans and rolls around on the bed. Fuck his brother for being a morning person.

“Get off.” Dean mutters when Sam tries to roll him back. What is he? Five?

And of course Sam doesn’t get off the bed, when has he ever? Instead he just starts reading out loud and Dean squints, crying internally at the headache that positively explodes behind his eyeballs.

“On the morning of the 1st of January, Sandra Johnsen took an axe to her sleeping boyfriend’s chest. ‘She has no recollection of the event’, a distraught Ms. Johnsen’s attorney says to the newspaper.”

“The fuck kind of newspaper is this?” Dean grumbles because damn, that’s weirdly specific.

“This sounds like our kind of thing, Dean.”

It kinda does but Dean still wants to know about the newspaper’s journalistic sensitivity. Also, coffee.

“Could be amnesia. Like, shock.” He grunts unhappily when Sam steals most of the comforter from him. “Leave me alone, oaf.”

“Dean.”

“ _Sammy_.” Dean glares up at his little brother, meeting Sam’s own glare head on. “Seriously, it’s the day after New Year’s, can we have _some_ rest?”

“We had rest.” Sam snaps but thankfully gets off the bed. “It’s not my fault that you spent all night drinking whisky and drunk-texting Cas.”

Dean splutters because he most certainly did not. He eyes his phone, charger plugged in like a good boy. Or did he?

“I was just checking up on him.”

“No.” Sam drawls, taking a seat at the dingy table opposite the beds. “I checked up on Kevin, it went like this.” He picks up his phone and Dean’s already one hundred percent sure he doesn’t want to hear this. “‘Hey Kev,’” Sam reads out loud without any consideration for the thunderstorm in Dean’s head. “‘How are you holding up? Garth told me that houseboat has seen better days, just holler if you need anything. Tell your mom we said hi and happy new year’s’.” He lowers his phone and gives Dean a bitchface.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean mutters and sits up. _Slowly_.

“In contrast you sounded like this, ‘why hasn’t Cas texted back yet? Do you think there’s something wrong with Cas? He’s been acting strange, hasn’t he? Why would he say that he wanted to be a hunter with us but then straight up dumping us for Fred? Is Fred more interesting than us, huh? Do you think Fred has relapsed? Is that why Cas isn’t answering my texts? Is that Cas texting you?’” Goddamn, if Sam’s bitchface gets any deeper it might get stuck like that.

“It wasn’t _that_ bad.” Dean mutters because it wasn’t. Clearly Sam’s overreacting. Clearly.

“‘Is Dean alright?’” Dean snaps his head up and looks over at his brother who’s definitely reading something off his phone again. “‘He keeps sending me text messages with bad grammar and close-ups of his nostrils. Is he inebriated?’”

Dean stares at Sam for a moment and Sam just stares right back. If it wasn’t for the loud ass clock on the wall ticking loudly enough for Dean’s head to thud dully with every second it would be completely silent for a _long_ while.

“So he _was_ texting you?”

“Goddamnit, Dean!” Sam flings his hands up in defeat but Dean can barely see through the blur Sam’s suddenly very loud tone caused. Dean groans and cradles his head. “The point is that you were insufferable last night and we’re taking this case. Take a shower, I’m driving.”

Dean hates a lot of things right now but mostly his brother. It’s probably just a normal murder anyway. People do a lot of crazy shit during the holidays. Texting your best friend nostril pics, for example. So yes, just to get Sam off his back he trudges to the shower but even after he’s done, he’s completely convinced that it’s just a black and white normal human-on-human kill.

 

****

 

“This is not a normal kill.”

Sam turns to him and gives Dean a severely unimpressed face. “You think?”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns to walk away from the newest victim. Even with the bad weather, it had taken them less than seven hours to get Dean cleaned up and to roll into Tisdale, Wyoming, and during that time a new murder had had time to occur. As soon as they had walked into the local police office, brandishing their FBI badges, Sheriff Del Star had practically shanghaied them.

It’s clear to both brothers that the Sheriff is rattled, and perhaps this is the worst thing that’s happened to Tisdale during the man’s 30 year service. From what Sam had insisted on reading to Dean during their lunch stop, Dean had deducted that Tisdale is what you would call a calm town.

With a total number of inhabitants barely reaching 800 and the annual pie eating contest (that’s sadly in the summer) being the only really big thing to happen, Dean can kind of understand that they’re scared. Everyone he and Sam talk to seem very helpful, though, which is refreshing.

“Two kills in two days?” Dean rubs his hand over his mouth when he and Sam stop outside the victim’s house. The cold January air seeps in immediately and Dean wishes not for the first time that their fed get-up included winter jackets. “Either it’s our kind of thing or it’s a serial killer.”

Sam looks thoughtful. “I wanna say I told you so but we shouldn’t get hasty. Let’s hear with the locals first.” He nods to something behind Dean’s back and when Dean turns he sees the Sheriff approaching them, a distraught expression on his plump face.

Sheriff Star looks like a man who enjoys life, so plum and jolly Dean would rather associate him with a mall Santa and he wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Star plays one for Christmas. He sure got the whiskers for it.

“This is absolutely horrid.” He says and shakes his head sadly. “Mrs. Garrott always helped make the pies for the competition.” He looks so goddamn sad that Dean doesn’t even want to quip about pies. “She will be missed.”

Sam takes a moment to pat the man on his round shoulder, putting on his best puppy-eyes. “We’re very sad for your loss. Know that we are here for you.”

The Sheriff pulls himself up and obviously tries to look like a man with dignity. Dean feels his headache returning slowly.

“And that is much appreciated, gentlemen. We should head back to the station and see about Ms. Johnsen’s case while the forensics look at this. My Chief Deputy will be glad to help you.”

Dean wonders about that because besides the murders this town is entirely too nice to them. There’s always _someone_ who opposes them, especially in smaller towns since they’re outsiders and all that. But as they enter the Sheriff’s office again and meet Chief Deputy Clara Hanning it becomes extremely evident that she’s more than willing to help them. Or, judging from her preening and fluttering eyelashes, help Sam.

“These are Agents Nash and Crosby.” Sheriff Star says as a cursory introduction and Dean’s neck prickles when all the little deputies who didn’t get a chance to see them before looks at them now. “Chief Deputy Hanning will show you what little we have gathered from the Sandra Johnsen case, including the interrogation.” The Sheriff gestures for Sam and Dean to follow the incredibly sunny looking woman.

She smiles widely at them and yeah, she’s cute with a subtle pink lipstick and straight blonde hair in a stylish ponytail, but she keeps sneaking glances at Sam and Dean just rolls his eyes for the second time today. He grabs some coffee as they walk to her office and hopes his headache can settle on its own.

“So, Chief Deputy—”

“Oh please,” Clara interrupts with the wave of a perfectly manicured hand. Yes, being Chief Deputy in this town seems to be a cushy job indeed. “You can call me Ms. Hanning, or Clara.” She smiles again when Sam takes the seat directly in front of her desk, forcing Dean to take the corner chair. “That’s just old Del trying to impress you bigshots, Agent Nash.” She fucking _winks_ and Dean interrupts the moment by noisily pushing over the corner chair to sit beside Sam.

“Please,” Sam says with a big smile of his own. “It’s Graham.”

She positively squirms and Dean wants to snore with boredom. Flirt on your own time, Sammy, Dean wants a Gatorade and some greasy food.

“Well okay then.” She says, obviously pleased with this development. Dean doesn’t care, not when she _finally_ pulls out a folder and places it on her desk for them to see. “This is all we have on the death of Philip Bush, Sandra Johnsen’s boyfriend. We still have her in custody but if you ask me it’s a pretty open and shut case.”

“How so?” Dean asks with a frown. Sam pulls the folder closer and immediately manages to flip it open on the corpse and how the fuck does he even do that? Dean needs more bacon before he can stomach looking at another stiff.

“Well,” Clara shrugs and looks a little helpless. “She was found with the bloodied axe in her hand, chopping Philip’s chest open.”

Sam pinches his lips together and Dean leans back in his chair, making a humming sound.

“But she says she can’t remember doing it?” Sam says after a silent moment.

“ _Now_ , yes.” It’s clear from Clara’s tone that she thinks the bitch should be incarcerated or even electrocuted. Dean wonders how well Clara knew the two involved. How well everyone in this town know everyone. “During the time, she was allegedly chanting ‘one more chop, only one more’.”

Dean gets unexpected chills up his spine and he meets Sam’s sideways glance. It _could_ just be a regular murder…

“I think it’s time we talk to Ms. Johnsen.” Sam says and stands up, followed by Dean and Clara.

 

 

It’s not a regular murder. Neither Sam nor Dean can put their finger on it but they both agree there is something strange about Sandra. They of course covertly test her for possession and the like but everything they try comes up short. She’s in a poor state, though. Babbling about someone else making her do it but the name she keeps repeating (and the man she keeps describing) matches no one the people at the Sheriff’s Office seem to know. Even her attorney seems a little at a loss.

“It’s hard to tell if she’s more upset about the murder of her boyfriend or that this ‘Gale’ figure is nowhere to be found.” Dean muses as they enter their newly rented room at the Bighorn Inn, appropriately named after the big national park that’s only a few miles west of the town.

“It’s eerie how she can’t seem to remember the murder.”

“But still,” Dean pulls at his tie, loosening the knot and at the same time glancing at his phone. No news from Cas. Or Kevin, he can just as well expect Kevin to text him, shut up. “That _could_ be shock. Or she’s lying.”

Sam nods thoughtfully. “So what do you think? _Is_ it our thing?”

Dean frowns at his little brother. “I checked in at the motel, didn’t I?”

Sam huffs out a smile and goes to probably poison the bathroom. Seriously, that guy needs to watch it with the bunny food because it’s obviously not as good for his digestive system as Dean’s greasy food is for his. He tosses off the fed suit’s jacket and rolls up his sleeves to sit down at the table.

Clara gave them all the information they had and they’re intent on going through that before setting out again tomorrow to talk to the witnesses of the first murder and Mrs. Garrott’s grandson, who was the one to find her. What’s the most disconcerting about her murder so far is that Sandra was in custody when it happened and Mrs. Garrott’s killer hasn’t been found yet.

He shoots Cas a text, just asking how he’s doing or whatever, but that’s neither here nor there.

 

****

 

“I don’t know what happened.” Stacy Woo is a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties and if Dean had less tact he would probably be hitting on her. As it is, she’s crying her eyes out as she tries to recollect Mr. Bush’s death. “We had had a great party and everyone was sleeping.”

“You stayed in the same house?” Sam asks, full puppy mode activated as he takes notes.

“We did.” Stacy nods, looking pleadingly at them as if either of them are going to oppose this fact. “It was Markus’ time to have the New Year’s party, we usually takes turns.” She adds, throwing Dean a look and nodding again. Dean nods along too, sagely as fuck. “And afterwards we usually sleep over, there was nothing odd about that. And then I got up to pee in the morning and-and… oh my god!” she starts crying, hunched over and hugging her stomach as big sobs wrack her body.

Sam gives Dean a LookTM and Dean sighs, moving off the armchair he’s in to sit beside Stacy on her couch, slinging an arm around her shoulders. She practically wails and presses into his embrace so forcefully he almost topples over. If Dean didn’t know better he would say this is all just an elaborate act because really, no one cries _this_ much. Then again, he’s seen the Bachelor and fuck if those chicks don’t ball their eyes out at every little thing…

“Can you think of something that _was_ odd?” Sam asks when Stacy’s calmed down a bit. She’s not moving from Dean’s arms but Dean doesn’t actively move away either. She smells nice.

Stacy’s quiet for a moment and then she sits up straighter. “Sandra and Philip have been in love for as long as I’ve known them.” She says in a contemplative tone. “They are— _were_ ,” she closes her eyes for a second and inhales deeply. “They were kinda like the Marshal and Lily of our group.” She looks up to meet Sam’s eyes with a little frown. “But lately Sandra’s been telling me about this other guy Gale. She won’t tell me where she met him or what he does for a living, not stuff like that. Only that he’s great, in like _every_ way.”

“In a boyfriend kind of way?” Sam asks as he scribbles down notes.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think she was leaving Philip, then?” Dean asks thoughtfully, actually more for Sam than Stacy but it’s Stacy that turns to him.

“I didn’t think that was an option.” She says, her voice a wobble. “But now… oh God, why did she do it?”

Sam and Dean share a new look. This interview is clearly over but their stay here at Stacy’s apartment is surely not.

 

 

“Man, she could _talk_.” Dean mutters as they nearly an hour later fucking finally climb into the Impala. The leather seat is so cold Dean’s sure his tongue would get stuck if he licked it. Not that he’d ever try, just saying.

“She was upset, Dean.” Sam says admonishingly and yeah, yeah, Dean saw that too. “And clearly hitting on you.”

Dean’s actually a little stumped. “She was not.” Was she?

Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice, you’re like a bloodhound when it comes to beautiful women. Anyway, she brought up this Gale person again.”

Dean’s actually _appalled_ that he hadn’t noticed but okay, guess we’re skipping over that for now.

“Yeah, and she described him the same way Sandra did.”

Tall, dark, handsome smile and a fiery attitude. Hint of danger but also protective. Like a goddamn dreamboat.

“I feel like I know this guy.” Sam mutters, looking down at his notes as Dean navigates through the small town.

“Yeah, you’re sitting next to him.” Okay, one of these days Dean’s self-esteem is going to get seriously dented from all of Sam’s unimpressed squints.

“Are we talking to Mrs. Garrott’s grandson next?”

“You are.” Dean pouts (attractively). “I’m gonna go look at her corpse.”

“Fair enough.”

It _is_ fair enough because Dean can’t deal with another weeper and Sam’s anyhow much better at all that. And hey, maybe Dean will meet a cute coroner and Sam can have his Clara to himself and Dean can prove he’s still in the game, bitch.

He gets a picture of a bumblebee stuck in a flower with its legs poking out beside its fat butt and a smiley face from Cas just as he’s getting out of the car at the hospital. He shoots off a laughing smiley and saves the picture on his phone.

 

****

 

Mrs. Garrott’s body show nothing out of the ordinary besides the blunt force trauma that killed her.

“There was a struggle.” The coroner says. He’s a balding man in his fifties, thin as a stick and with a mouth that looks two sizes too big on his narrow head. Dean suspects he was bulkier and bigger when he was younger. “She managed to scratch the assailant but what we found under her nails show no match in our records. Perhaps you could help with that?” he looks so expectant that Dean can do nothing but grunt and nod noncommittally.

“There was no sign of a break-in.” He mutters, more to himself but of course Carl the Coroner hears him anyway.

“If you’d asked me a week ago I would have said no one in this town would ever lay a finger on someone else from here. We’re one big family.” He glances over at an empty table beside Mrs. Garrott’s. “But after Philip…”

“Don’t worry, me and Agent Nash will do our best to find the one responsible.” Dean says confidently in that way he knows small town people respond well to, even though he’s severely starting to doubt they even have a case here.

He returns to the motel room before Sam and decides to take a shower before he tries to gather all their evidence so far. From what he’s seen this could just be another show of human mentality breaking down. He supposes they should start with looking for this Gale figure and later tonight they’ll be going back to Mrs. Garrott’s house and have a looksee without any pesky deputies running around.

Sam’s still not around when Dean gets out of the shower and damnit, if he had known his nosy little brother would take _this_ long he would’ve jerked off while he had the chance. No chancing it now, though, and he just throws on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, getting to work sorting through Clara’s paperwork and his own notes.

 

 

“So get this.” This is how Sam greets him when he returns an hour later and Dean’s been on-again-off-again contemplating that jerk off anyway. “I know who Gale is.”

“Well thank fuck because I’ve got nothing. Lay it on me.”

Sam looks smug and he flips open a folder of his own. It looks like the ones from the Sheriff’s Office but Dean’s got all their copies. Guess he knows where Sam went while Dean was sitting here like a chump…

“Gale,” Sam produces a paper with a printed photo on it. “Is a fictional character from the Hunger Games series. Books and movies.”

Dean takes the paper slowly, frowning at the picture. Come on, he looks better than _this_ , right?

“Don’t tell me we’re dealing with a Tulpa?”

“That was my first thought too but I don’t think so.” Dean sure as fuck hopes not because those are some nasty motherfuckers to get rid of. “The only reason I figured out who Gale probably is, is because Mrs. Garrott’s grandson mentioned how his daughter has been obsessed with a young guy lately. He indirectly provided me with a more thorough description when he allowed me to read her diary. She mentioned that he was, and I quote, ‘just like that hottie from the HG movies’. So I went and found a picture and showed it to Sandra.”

“And she knew him?”

“She screamed at me to let her meet him. That he would explain.” Sam looks sad for a moment, looking down at the picture in Dean’s hands. “The daughter, Emelia, she’s 16 and she hasn’t been home since her grandmother’s murder.”

Dean grits his teeth for a moment. “So this Gale figure, do you think he’s real?”

“No one seems to have seen him, aside from Sandra and Emelia. But Emelia mentions nothing about Sandra in her diary so they probably didn’t know he was two-timing them.”

Dean smacks his lips in distaste. “This guy must be Sandra’s age, it’s insane for him to want to be with someone as young as Emelia.”

“Insane but not implausible.”

Yep, that bad taste is not going away. “So what are we thinking? Shapeshifter?”

“I’d say so, this guy in the picture is an actor called Liam Hemsworth and I’m betting he’s got better things to do than going around small towns smooth-talking women into killing their loved ones.”

Dean snorts because that sounds kinda like what a big Hollywood star could end up doing after enough years of the tinsel town mania.

“Let’s go to Garrott’s house tonight and look for signs for…” he sighs. “Anything and everything, I guess.

“Emelia?”

“I hate to be the one to say it but chances are she’s out there somewhere too and you know, _someone_ smashed dear granny’s face against the wall.”

Sam looks like he wants to argue and he should because while Mrs. Garrott was old she didn’t look frail and Dean doubts ( _wants to_ doubt) that a teenage girl could have killed her by brute force but that’s a discussion for later.

 

****

 

Two days later Emelia has officially gone missing and Dean and Sam are nowhere near getting closer to this Gale dude. Well, at least there’s been no new murders and Dean thinks that’s positive at least. The backside of this being a small town hits them, though, and they have to give up the bodies to the morgue in Buffalo, almost thirty minutes north of Tisdale.

Another downside is the weather which has steadily gotten worse since they got here. No snow yet but the clouds are heavy and steely grey and it’s so fucking cold Dean actually considers getting mittens.

Sam’s out buying dinner (because sometimes it’s actually Dean’s turn to win at rock-scissors-paper) when there’s a sudden knock on the door.

Dean’s up and out of his chair in a split second, gun in hand and damnit, there’s no window beside the door. He squints at the door for a moment and then opens it slowly. He relaxes as soon as he sees who it is on the other side of the door, rolling his eyes and stepping aside so Cas can come in.

“Why didn’t you fly in?”

Cas closes the door and hovers for a moment before sitting down at the table. “I didn’t know if you would be in.”

“Dude, you’ve been texting me stupid bee photos, you could’ve taken a moment to ask.”

“My phone battery died.”

Dean frowns and sits down at the other end of the table. “Whatever, why are you here?” not that he _minds_ , mind you. Just kinda still feeling the burn of Cas choosing to sit with Fred rather than bunk with Dean and Sam but whatever, maybe Cas is here to help with the case? He hadn’t said anything about that when Dean had texted him about it but that doesn’t have to mean anything.

Cas’ whole face softens and he kind of slumps in his seat. “I missed you.”

Dean’s mouth suddenly feels dry. “What?”

Cas seems to shake himself, looking to the side and harrumphing. “Fred’s sleeping and you mentioned something about a case?”

Dean squints but Cas just looks solemnly at him. Does his hair look wilder? Dean thinks it might look wilder.

“We think it’s a shapeshifter. It’s been imitating Liam Hemsworth’s character Gale from some teenage movies and talked a woman into killing her boyfriend and now a girl is missing.”

Cas hums (it’s like a rumble in his throat). “No leads?”

“Other than what Sam’s new girlfriend thinks? Not really.” He pushes the police folders towards the angel and feels mild surprise when Cas just accepts the folder without asking about the girlfriend comment. “Feeling kinda stumped. If it’s not a shapeshifter I’m thinking it’s just a normal human killer and then we should get outta here.”

“Don’t you think you should capture them anyway?” Cas says with a rare smile, flipping through the folders and no doubt reading and processing at the speed of light.

“You know we can’t.” Dean snorts. Cas just shrugs and Dean gets a little lost in watching the lines of Cas’ shoulders. Broader than you think, just saying. “How’s Fred?”

Cas smiles his small smile and leans back in his chair. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.”

Dean hums to himself, feeling like there’s something more there, something that Cas isn’t saying and that Dean is too chicken shit to ask.

“That’s good…”

“Dean.” Cas unexpectedly leans forward, putting his (big) hand on Dean’s arm. “I—”

Dean’s holding his breath so hard in expectation of what Cas is going to say that he almost chokes when Sam surprises the both of them by positively barging into the room.

“Mama Penrose’s didn’t have takeout so we’re eating pizza—oh hi Cas.”

Cas stands up, leaving Dean feeling bereft of his touch, which is just some bullshit right there.

“Hello Sam.”

“Did you come here to help us with the case?”

Dean frowns because that makes it sound as if Cas is just a tool for them to use and he’s so much more than that. Also, Dean feels bad about how his first reaction was the same as Sam’s. He should tell Cas that it’s okay to drop in without having a reason.

He looks up and happens to catch Cas’ eye and sees the angel smiling at him. Ah, maybe he knows already.

“Actually no, I was just in the mood to drop by.”

“That’s nice.” Sam says with a huge grin and damn right it’s nice. Dean accepts the pizzas when Sam hands them to him. “You saying for dinner then?”

“No, actually I think I should leave. Fred isn’t watching himself, and all.”

Something seems off. Dean only listens half-heartedly to Cas and Sam talking but something with it sounds odd. Well, he’s hungry and Cas surprised him so maybe those two combined is making him extra sensitive or something?

“Do you think you can take a look around town first?” Sam asks and looks appropriately puppy-eyed because damn, he’s just intent on making Cas do their ground-work isn’t he? Well, now that Dean thinks about it, they _are_ stumped and Cas can sense supernatural beings.

“Could you?” he asks and tries to look adorable like Sam.

Cas looks like he wants to protest but then his eyes soften as he looks at Dean. “Sure. I’ll look around and be in touch if I find something.”

With that he walks out of the room and Sam turns to Dean with a confused face. “I thought he would just do a quick fly around town.”

Dean shrugs and opens one of the pizza cartons. Ugh, vegetarian, this better be Sam’s. “Maybe he’s tired?”

“I guess.” Sam mumbles and accepts his disgusting pizza. And yes, mental fist pump, pizza number two is meat lover’s. “But too tired to fly? Why did he even use the door?”

Sam’s right, it’s not like Cas usually uses the door. “He wasn’t sure we were here and he couldn’t call because his phone died.” Sam’s frowning too hard for someone who’s just about to enjoy pizza. “What?”

“Dean.” He sighs, _deeply_. “Just yesterday we agreed this must be a shapeshifter case and now Cas shows up unannounced and acts weirder than usual. Come on.”

Dean stares at Sam for about a millisecond and then he’s up and out of his chair, barging through the door as if Cas is still gonna be there, he’s probably flown all the way back to Fred’s cozy—oh there he is, standing right next to the Impala.

He looks up when Dean approaches him and he gives a new smile. “I missed this car as well.”

Okay, not that Dean isn’t happy to hear Cas praising his baby but what the fuck? “Cas, could you hold this for me?”

He holds out a small silver chain that he’s taken to carry around in his pocket ever since he and Sam kind of solidified their belief in the shapeshifter idea. Cas takes the chain and Dean waits with baited breath because if this turns out to actually be the shapeshifter then that might mean that Cas is either being held captive or, worse, dead. But he’s a goddamn angel, that should count for something, right?

Cas just takes the chain and studies it for a moment before looking up at Dean with a bigger smile. “You thought I was the shapeshifter.”

Well, now Dean just feels stupid. “I didn’t… I mean, Sam mentioned that you were acting weird…” he rubs the back of his neck as he accepts the chain back.

“Dean.” Cas says, his voice suddenly much lower. A (not unpleasant) chill goes down Dean’s spine when Cas steps closer. Their breaths are white puffs of air between them, mixing before Dean’s eyes. “Can’t I miss you without there having to be a specific cause for it?”

“I-I guess…”

“You’re sweet for worrying about me but I’m an angel, I can take care of myself.”

Painful memories flash through Dean’s mind. “Like you took care of yourself in Purgatory?”

Cas tilts his head to the side and regards Dean with soft fondness. “I’m here now, Dean.”

Yeah but for how long? It’s a burning question in Dean’s mind but he doesn’t have it in him to ask it out loud. Instead he just nods and goes back to the motel room, leaving Cas in the parking lot to do whatever the hell he wants.

Cas of course leaves and Dean goes to bed that night feeling strangely empty but what the hell else is new?

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

The next day Sam and Dean go to the Sheriff’s Office, intent on joining the search for young Emelia. Since Sandra is the way she is (bat shit crazy) and Emelia is the only other person who seems to have seen or at least know of this Gale character they need to talk to her. They’re both prepared for the worst, though, and as a precaution they both have extra silver things on them, in case they lose one and find themselves in situations where they have to test people. Additionally Sam proposes that they use their phones to try and capture the shapeshifter’s shining eyes on camera and though it feels cumbersome, Dean agrees. Hell, at this point the shapeshifter could be anyone and they need to be careful, hence the loaded silver bullets in their guns.

“It’s either onto us or it’s moved on.” Sam comments as they’re exiting the car.

“Yeah, it’s been suspiciously quiet.” Dean mutters and hell, that should be a good thing (no more deaths after Mrs. Garrott after all) but he’s still in a bad mood from last night.

“Hey.” Sam stops him with a huge man paw on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I suggested Cas was the shapeshifter, okay?”

Sam’s been under the delusion that that’s why Dean’s been grumpy; because he indirectly accused their best friend of being a murderous monster, and Dean’s too much of a fucking coward to tell him the truth. Because what is even the truth? That he was happy that Cas had said he missed him (them!) and then sad that the angel had left anyway? Bullshit.

“Whatever.” Dean grunts and starts walking again. “I tested him and he isn’t, and we _should_ be careful.”

Sam makes a sound as if he wants to say something more but thankfully he remains quiet and just follows Dean.

Well inside, Clara immediately accosts them and Dean spends some time rolling his eyes while she flirts with Sam.

“So anyway, we’re very glad you decided to help with this.” She has come closer and for some reason puts her hand on Sam’s arm now. Oh, Dean’s well versed in flirting techniques but damn, usually it’s more subtle. He gets a little hot remembering Cas’ hand on his own arm yesterday and shakes it off by wandering further into the busy office.

Deputies are bustling about, getting things ready for the big search and Dean wishes he had brought an umbrella because it looks like it’s going to rain. Although, how stupid wouldn’t he have looked trudging through the nearby forest, being the only one carrying an umbrella? Much more manly to just get wet, yeah.

But he does think he should have put on something warmer than just his jacket because it’s only like 20 degrees outside and Dean nearly froze his balls off on the drive here. He sighs and resigns himself to a world of cold today.

Sheriff Star has just given his briefing and Dean’s on his third donut when there’s some tumult happening near the holding cells. Sam and Dean share a look but there’s really no hesitation and as they’re sprinting over with the deputies they hear Sandra Johnsen screaming.

“I wanna see the Agents! They’re here aren’t they? Let me see them!”

Clara grabs Dean’s arm, pulling him back. “I was afraid of this.” She says in a low tone, catching Sam’s attention as well and they stop to let the deputies go help calm Sandra down.

“What’s going on, Clara?” Sam says in his most serious tone.

“Ever since you came here yesterday and showed Sandra that picture she’s been convinced that you know where Gale is. I’d be surprised if she even slept.”

Sam looks extremely guilty. “That was never my intention.” He mumbles, eyes downcast. Dean shakes his head.

“Not your fault. Let’s focus on finding Emelia instead; she might have something to tell us that can help Sandra too.”

Sam nods but it’s difficult to ignore Sandra’s wailing so Dean leads his little brother out of the Sheriff’s Office. The briefing was over anyway and they know where to start, no need to wait around.

 

*****

 

Cas joins Dean when he’s knee deep in underbrush, popping up out of nowhere and scaring the crap out of Dean, just like how it’s supposed to be.

“Jesus!” Dean clutches his heart pathetically. “Were you waiting round a tree or what the fuck?”

Cas gives him a small smile. Dean squints at the angel’s lips but only because they’re looking a little blue. He can’t remember ever seeing Cas react to weather conditions before, except perhaps that brief stint of humanization during the Apocalypse and Dean’s not keen to relive it.

“How are you, Dean?”

The question derails Dean’s own questions and he stops to take stock of how he’s actually feeling.

“I’m cold and hungry.”

Cas laughs and it’s… well fuck, he looks really good. His smile is wider than Dean’s ever seen it and it feels like a weight’s been lifted off Dean’s shoulders. Cas and Sam really are Dean’s family and he wants the both of them to look carefree like this all the time. He would fucking loose a limb if it would ensure Cas could be relaxed all the time.

“I figured, here.” He pulls out his hand from his trench coat pocket and produces a fucking _sandwich_ of all things. Dean’s eyes budge out and he greedily accepts the treat. Fuck yeah, at this point even a soggy bologna sandwich is better than pie.

“Thanks Cas.” He says with his mouth full. Hell if he cares about that, though, they’re basically alone in the forest, the search party having spread out far enough that Dean can barely hear the people shouting Emelia’s name.

“I hope you like it, I know it’s not pie.” He _winks_ and somehow fucking pulls it off. Dean swallows over a big bite of sandwich, feeling unexpected heat spreading throughout his body. It’s probably because of the food.

He doesn’t know what to say so he just hums and stands there, eating, while Cas looks at him with soft adoration. It’s strange, being looked at like that because Dean doesn’t think he deserves it, especially not from the angel. Strange but not unpleasant.

He’s just finished his sandwich when a fowl wind flows past and a particularly hard shudder goes through him. His teeth clatter for a second and he feels goddamn pathetic. Cas frowns and steps closer, putting him really fucking close.

“If you’re cold you can use my trench coat.”

“That’s fine, Cas.” Dean mutters because he ain’t gonna accept some dudes jacket like a goddamn chick. Although the option feels tempting… “‘Sides, you’d get cold or whatever.”

Cas doesn’t listen (because of course he doesn’t) and instead takes hold of his coat, spreading it out like a big batcape.

“Well there’s more than enough room for two.”

“Cas, what the fuck?”

Dean stumbles back but not far enough and definitely not fast enough because in the next moment he feels himself completely surrounded by both Cas’ body and coat. It’s warm and fucking _snuggly_ and goddamnit, Cas smells good. Smells familiar. And with this setting, with the two of them alone in a bleak looking forest, it’s too close to Purgatory. Dean’s flashbacks have gotten better lately but they’re coming back full force now and he sighs deeply, putting his forehead against Cas’ shoulder and relaxing against the angel.

“You’ve done very well today, Dean.” Cas mumbles against the side of Dean’s head. Dean’s whole body feels gooey. “You deserve to rest.”

“Still haven’t found the shapeshifter.” Dean says, his voice muffled against Cas’ shoulder. “Or the girl. What if she’s dead, Cas?”

Cas angles his face so that his lips brush against Dean’s skin when he speaks. “Even if she is, it’s not your fault.” Goosebumps prickle down Dean’s side and it should make him even colder but all it does is make his head foggy.

He steps a little closer, allows their bodies to line up. Cas is a hot, hard line against Dean and it feels unexpectedly nice. Cas is always so steady. He’s strong and kind and if he were a girl he’d be the perfect height for kissing because Dean wouldn’t have to bend his neck so much. Too bad he’s not a girl, they could totally be snogging right now if he was.

Dean pulls his head away, looking into Cas’ deep blue eyes. Or maybe they wouldn’t because Dean would still be too chicken, too scared to disrupt their friendship. Also, where the fuck did this train of thoughts come from?

Cas licks his lips slowly and Dean’s whole body flushes hot.

“Dean.” Fuck, just hearing that one word, just _his name_ , in Cas’ deep rumble is setting something off inside Dean. Something dangerous, needed to be contain but oh how Dean suddenly wants it out.

“Cas, I…” he averts his eyes but doesn’t even try to break free from the embrace. Cas squeezes him tighter. “I should get back to Sam. And… and the search party.”

“You should.” Cas concedes softly. “But you don’t want to.”

“Get outta my head.” Dean mumbles but he finds himself bumping his nose against Cas’ ear instead. Cas turns his head at the touch but Dean moves away. Cas’ face is too close and Dean’s body is suddenly burning.

It becomes a kind of tug war between them now in that Cas will lean in only for Dean to lean back and vice versa, but it doesn’t last long. They take a few stumbling steps and suddenly Dean finds himself with his back against a tree Cas drops his coat and places his hands on the massive trunk instead, somewhere above Dean’s head so that when he leans in for support his face gets in Dean’s.

Dean, for his part, is clutching Cas’ shirt, feeling the warmth of the angel under it. Like a goddamn furnace and Dean wants it closer. He panics a little when he realizes that the heat in his body isn’t just normal heat but actually arousal. But squirming only as get Cas closer and it’s not like Dean is trying to get away anyway.

Instead he shuffles his feet so he can get his thigh between Cas’ legs and his breathing stutters when he feels the angel definitely sporting a semi.

“Dean.” Cas says again and the word seems even heavier this time.

Dean shudders and thumps his head back against the tree trunk. Cas noses along Dean’s throat and Dean’s dick twitches ( _hard_ ) when Cas pokes his tongue out to lick Dean’s Adam’s apple. Hell, he’s barely licking, more like dabbing, but the touch electrifies Dean’s whole body.

He groans, low and mostly smothered, and grips Cas’ clothes harder. This time when they turn it’s into each other’s touches, more like a swing than a seesaw now. Their pelvises grind together lightly and it sets a fire in Dean’s groin. It’s not quite frottage but Dean’s starting to feel like he wants it to be. Wants to feel more of Cas’ dick against his thigh, or better, closer and against his own dick. He’s hardening in his jeans and panting. And fuck it, he wants to kiss Cas.

Cas turns his head just as Dean does and it’s so close, so _there_ , they’re sharing breaths now, Cas’ eyes look dark with lust, Dean’s chilled and sweating at the same time and—

Dean’s whole body jerks when his phone goes off. The two of them freeze and Cas looks like he kind of wants to smite the phone, or whoever is calling, but Dean thinks it’s a blessing. Because what the hell are they _doing_? Where the fuck did this come from? Dean’s freaking out more and more the longer he’s staring into Cas’ eyes, listening to _Smoke on the Water_ playing out of the phone’s speakers, making the powerful song sound tinny _and oh my God he was going to kiss Cas_!

Cas lets out an insufferable sigh and steps back, letting go completely of Dean. Dean slumps back against the tree and takes the out, pawing for his phone and barely manages to see that it’s Sam calling before the ringtone gets cut off.

“I, uh, I need to take this.”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean’s gaze flick-flacks when he refuses to settle on Cas’ face. After a stiff moment Dean lifts his phone, dialing Sam back. Cas sighs again, quieter this time and somehow that’s worse.

 

 

Dean’s still freaking the fuck out when he eventually joins Sam but there’s not time for that. Someone’s dog (not a trained police dog, mind you) has picked up a trail and everyone’s following that. Dean’s antsy but refuses to answers Sam’s questions about why. He lost Cas somewhere in the forest, he doesn’t know when or where. The angel didn’t even say goodbye and Dean recognizes that as a _super_ bad sign.

See, screwing your best friend will only end up fucking everything up, once again Dean is proven right even when he doesn’t want to be.

“We should do this alone.” Sam mutters out the corner of his mouth as the search party stop for the umpteenth time to jabber about which direction to go. Dean wonders idly why they are following the dog if they aren’t going to _follow_ the dog.

“Yeah, good luck ditching the locals.”

“Dude, are you okay? You’re fucking shivering.”

Dean snorts and puts his hands in his armpits. Of course he’s fine, Cas heated him up real fucking good, thank you very much. And then left, but that’s on Dean and no one else.

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want my beanie?”

Dean looks at Sam as if he’s grown a second head, clad in an equally ridiculous beanie. “No.”

Sam rolls his eyes and starts walking again when Sheriff Star calls for it. Dean trudges dutifully through the underbrush but he’s not focused on the task at hand. All he can think about are Cas’ hands on his body, Cas’ semi against Dean’s thigh, Cas’ breath so close. Cas had fucking licked Dean’s throat. And really, where _had_ all that come from?

“Maybe it’s not a shapeshifter.” Dean mutters, easily catching Sam’s attention. “Maybe it’s a rogue cupid.”

Sam looks thoughtful for a moment and Dean freaks the fuck out. _Why_ had he said that out loud? Sam’s going to ask where he got that idea from and Dean’s going to act all irrational about it and they’re going to fight and… and maybe he should just tell Sam? Dean glances at his little brother. Maybe there could be a supernatural explanation for his and Cas’ behavior?

Because Dean’s certainly not into his best friend, shut _the fuck_ up.

 

 

The search turns out to be fruitless and they walk back late in the evening, weary but determined to continue in the morning in the other direction. Sam’s hooked on the rogue cupid idea or something of the like and wants to do research. Dean suspects he’s going to be stuck with the search party alone tomorrow but somehow doesn’t care.

Because Cas sends him a picture of him and Fred playing cards and it’s obvious that a third person took the picture. Seeing Cas looking grumpy and confused together with someone else cuts through Dean’s heart and he’s on the cusp of calling Cas to yell at him for so easily tossing Dean away but he doesn’t.

Because that would be childish, that would be stupid, that would be… would be…

Well fuck, Dean’s really fucking sad over the whole thing. They almost kissed today out in the forest and Dean’s apparently the only one who feels anything about that. Go figure.

 

*****

 

They find Emelia strung up in a tree about two hours march west of Tisdale, the total opposite direction from where they were going yesterday. She hangs from a branch, choked on a noose that seems too perfectly made for a distraught teenager to have managed.

She’s cut down in anticipation for her parents to arrive and everyone stands awkwardly around the dead girl. Dean’s no coroner but luckily Carl is in the search party and he judges her death to have happened at least a few days ago, just from first glances.

“So just about after granny’s death?” Dean mutters to Sammy but he’s not listening.

He’s frowning down at the corpse and after a moment’s hesitation he gets down on one knee to pull something out of her pocket. It’s a crumpled note. Carl gives Sam big eyes as Sam gets to his feet again but no one’s stopping him from reading it, or Dean from glancing over Sam’s shoulder.

 

_I’m sorry nana. I don’t remember doing it but it had to be me. I’m sorry. I love you._

 

“Well, if that isn’t the most textbook suicide note ever I don’t know what is.” Dean mumbles.

Sam’s eyes darken as he looks out at the forest in general. “These women were tricked, Dean. Something tricked them into killing people they love.”

“That Gale figure?” Dean doesn’t like how Carl can hear what they say so he walks a few steps away. Sam follows without question. “But shapeshifters don’t really do that, do they?”

“Neither do rogue cupids.” Sam counters but it sounds more like he agrees. Like they’re back at square one.

“Fucking great, so what does? What gives people the urge to kill loved ones and then forget about it?” as soon as he says it he realizes it and when his eyes snap up to Sam’s he can see that his little brother gets it too. “Ghost possession.”

Sam nods. “Gale could be how the ghost manifests itself.”

“Guess it’s time to look for a much older stiffy.” Dean says with a sigh. “We should get outta here before the parents come.”

“Yeah.” Sam looks sadly down at the girl before going over to Carl and handing him the note. “Agent Crosby and I have some business to attend to, please see to it that the girl’s parents get this note.”

Carl looks flabbergasted to be handed such an important task and Dean would have laughed at how the thin man’s mouth flaps silently but there are so many serious things going on that he’s not in the mood.

He picks up his phone as he and Sam trek back to where they left their cars. No messages from Cas but that’s probably because Dean didn’t give an answer to that picture last night. Well fuck him for being sensitive or whatever.

He angrily opens up the conversation, staring at Cas’ confused frown for a second before typing out a message.

 **[Me]:** could use your help if you’re done playing games

There, Cas can take that double entendre and shove it up his perfect ass.

 

*****

 

 **[Cas]:** Where are you?

Dean stares at his phone, confused as fucking hell about the question.

It’s later the same day and Sam’s been swamped with phone calls from Clara and new interrogations with Sandra, who seems completely devastated over Emelia’s death (apparently they were in the same book club) but otherwise provides them with nothing useful. Her case is going to court soon and Dean and Sam are keen to solve this before that happens. Although Dean supposes that even if they find the ghost responsible for the whole thing, Sandra’s still the one going to prison. They’re working the insanity plea and with how she acts they might just pull it off. Dean’s been in a few loony bins in his life and doesn’t really know if that’s the better option, though.

 **[Me]:** uh still tisdale

 **[Cas]:** I know that. Which motel? Which room?

“Dude, Cas is losing his marbles.” Dean mutters to Sam as he shoots off the answers.

Sam looks up from his laptop with a frown. “What do you mean?”

But Dean gets interrupted by Cas flying in. He lands with a soft _thwump_ and everything is right in Dean’s world again. Not because Cas is simply in the room, hold your fucking horses, but because the angel _should_ fly in, completely oblivious to personal space and all that. Not knock on the fucking door, that was just weird, okay?

And also, holy fucking _hell_ , that’s Cas, in this room. This room that also has Dean in it. They’re in the _same room_ and they haven’t even spoken privately about what happened yesterday and now they’re not even alone because there’s Sam and oh fuck, he’s going to read Dean like an open book.

“Hello Dean, Sam.”

“Yeah, hi.” Dean mutters, eyes averted and skin prickling.

“Hey Cas.” Sam says with a smile and leans back in his chair. “How’s Fred?”

Cas hums for a moment. Chills travel down Dean’s spine to settle in his groin and that’s just unfair, okay? Whatever the hell it was they did yesterday came out of _nowhere_ and he’s not up for a repeat (or continuation) so why is his body reacting like this?

“Much of the same, I suppose.”

Sam looks sympathetic. “It’s nice of you to hang out with him, though.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of being nice.” Cas says solemnly. Dean’s dick is really not getting the memo to calm down. “But in any case I believe you are having trouble?”

Something flickers over Sam’s face and Dean can feel it reflected in him as well. Cas’ tone is too questioning for someone who’s actually been here and already talked to them about this case. Especially for someone who’s been in the forest with Dean, pushing him up against trees and breathing hotly against his neck. But Sam doesn’t know about that last part so shush.

“Well, we were actually thinking it’s not a shapeshifter but a rogue cupid or something?”

Cas frowns at Sam for a moment, deep in thought. “Last time we thought it was a cupid it turned out to be Famine.”

“Yeah, it’s not fucking _Famine_ again.” Dean snorts, still not looking at Cas but damn, he can _feel_ those burning eyes when they turn on him.

“Heaven is in order now; there’s no reason for cupids to be turning to chaos.”

Dean fiddles with his own fingers like a complete moron. “Well it’s fucking _something_ going around making people want… _stuff_ ,” he glances up and yeah, Cas is totally staring. “Stuff they maybe normally wouldn’t want, okay?”

Cas squints and opens his mouth but Sam cuts him off, thankfully because Dean is burning up with everything unsaid.

“Then something else? Something to do with love or strong affection or compulsion?” he stares with scrutiny at his laptop for a moment. “The victims all seem to have been tricked into killing loved ones. I feel like I know this, like we’re missing something.”

Cas shrugs in that way of his. “Why don’t I just take a look around town?”

“Uh…” Sam looks at Dean and Dean can’t help but get an ugly feeling in his stomach. Cas _did_ have a look around town, the first time he was here. Didn’t he? Sure, he hasn’t said anything but he did also say that he would only contact them if he found anything so Dean’s been assuming that he didn’t, and by the looks of it Sam has made the same assumption.

“I’ll be right back.”

He flies off in a big whoosh and Dean blinks imaginary dust out of his eyes. “That was…”

“Weird, right?”

Dean nods but doesn’t have time to add anything before Cas lands again. He takes a seat and his knee bumps Dean’s.

“It’s a siren.”

Sam sits up straighter and starts tapping on his laptop immediately, the fucking nerd.

“Of course! It’s been posing as those women’s inner desires, it was probably just coincidence that they liked the same character.” He snorts derisively. “We’re so stupid, Dean. We’ve dealt with sirens before; remember the one that posed as a stripper?”

Dean grins and pretends that it’s natural the way he leaves his knee against Cas’ but it’s not. He’s forced to sit at an angle but Cas at least doesn’t move away, whatever the fuck that means.

“Oh yeah, we had to go to the strip club and everything.”

“And then it took the form of a perfect brother and you tried to kill me.”

Yeesh, way to put a negative spin on… well, okay it was a pretty negative hunt but damn, Sam, get over it.

“You did too.” Dean pouts. Cas just sits there, almost fucking serene. Dean can’t help but knocking their knees together harder. It gets the angel’s attention if nothing else. “Why didn’t you waste it?”

“It’s powerfully warded. I couldn’t locate it, only sense its presence.”

That makes Sam stop clickety-clacking and he frowns at Cas. “It must know we’re here.”

“That explains why there’re no new dead bodies. Except Emelia.”

“I’m gonna go call Clara to see if we can have a look at Emelia’s body, we need her blood to kill it. Or better yet, Sandra’s.” Sam gets up, phone in hand and Dean realizes too late that his little brother is leaving the room, probably intent on making the phone call on the way because he takes the keys to the Impala with him.

The quiet after Sam has left is _loud_ and Dean feels heat curling low in his stomach just from being alone with the angel right now. And in something as private as a motel room, nonetheless. Like, there’s a bed _right the fuck there_ and Dean’s freaking out again.

What if Cas decides to manhandle Dean down on the bed? Dean’s strong but he’s got nothing on Cas’ angel strength. He glances at the angel and finds that Cas is just sitting there, looking out into space or whatever. Fuck he looks good.

No, wait, that’s not where Dean wants to go with his thoughts. He shakes his head at himself and something clever is just at the tip of his tongue when Cas tilts his head to the side and meets Dean’s eyes. His gaze is soft and his smile fond.

“I missed this. Hunting with you and Sam is highly enjoyable.”

Well fuck, now Dean’s got nothing. Sure, he makes some kind of squeaky noise but that’s about all he’s got to contribute with. This is the second time Cas has said he missed them (Dean?) and Dean’s starting to believe him.

His whole body flushes hot when Cas turns back to stare into nothingness. Isn’t he going to say something about what (didn’t) happen in the forest? Fuck, they were pressed together so tightly, Dean could almost taste Cas’ breath. Their legs had been so close, crotches brushing. What if… like, _theoretically_ , what if they did that here? On the bed. Cas on top of Dean, straddling him, just kind of sitting on him. On… on a bed where stuff like that could develop, could get…

“Well I suppose I should get back to Fred.” Cas stands up and puts in the chair like a good boy. “Call me if you need anything, or pray to me.” He fixes Dean with a hard stare. “I don’t want you to get unnecessarily hurt.”

Dean’s tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. Cas just nods and flies away. What the _fuck_?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting longer than I had planned lol! Next chapter will be the last chapter, though :D  
> See you Thursday! <333
> 
> (shout-out to Gamermom who got the monster right! XD)


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

The town ends up in an uproar when Emelia’s parents claim that the note isn’t from her. Apparently she dots her little i’s with hearts and Sam confirms this to Dean, although quietly.

“I should have recognized it immediately from her diary.” He mumbles, although he doesn’t have to speak very low because the Sheriff’s Office is filled with the loud and angry voices of concerned townsfolks. “That’s on me.”

“Stop blaming yourself for everything fucked up in this case.” Dean snaps. Fuck, he had meant that to sound encouraging because he really means what he’s saying; the weird stuff happening here isn’t Sam’s fault. But he’s so on edge after meeting Cas yesterday that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

After Sam had come back yesterday, bronze knife and blood from the victim ready to be stabbed into the siren’s heart, Dean had been in a fucking daze and he’s barely snapped out of it. One thing’s for sure, though, and that’s that Dean’s feelings are hurt.

Okay, so maybe he doesn’t want something to happen between him and Cas or maybe he does (his dick does) but it’s just plain hurtful to have the angel show such obvious signs of attraction one moment and complete obliviousness in the next. Dean hadn’t really thought Cas was capable of that kind of evil.

He feels betrayed, plain and simple, and while the feeling isn’t new the cause for it is and Dean doesn’t know how to handle it.

There’s suddenly a rise in the angry voices and the small mob that’s formed sways like waves on the ocean. Clara tries to calm people while they shout about Sandra and the killer. General consensus seems to be that the murderer of Mrs. Garrott and Emelia is still on the loose and since Sandra and Emelia talked about the same man, Sandra must be an accomplice. Which, yeah okay, it’s kind of logical given that Sandra was caught red handed but unless Sandra is a _really_ good actress then Dean thinks she’s innocent.

Actually, since Cas said it’s a siren in town Dean knows she’s mostly innocent. Guilty of murdering her boyfriend, yes, but completely drugged out of her mind doing it. It’s gonna be hard to prove that, though.

“It doesn’t seem like we’ll be able to talk to Sandra.”

Dean snorts and leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “I still don’t know why you wanted to go here. We’ve already talked to her; she doesn’t know where the siren is.”

Sam frowns. “I’m going to explain to her what happened, maybe she knows of someplace where he took her. Like someplace romantic.”

“Like a murder cabin?”

Sam doesn’t appreciate Dean’s stellar humor, Dean can tell by the sigh. “We need to make her aware of what’s happening. If the siren thought Emelia would be a liability, just think how it feels about Sandra, who’s in police custody.”

“That she’s out of the way?”

Sam’s eyes look ominous. “Or that she’ll blab about its murder cabin.”

Dean hums. “Good point. So what do you wanna do?”

“I’m gonna try and talk to her and I’ll stay here for a while, keep my eyes out for anything out of the ordinary. You should see about getting a scrying spell to work.”

Actually that’s not a bad idea. Thanks to Cas they know it’s in town (unless it skipped out during the night), they know it’s warded from sight but that’s the sight of an angel so maybe some good old fashion human magic will poke through the warding. Give them a peek.

And also, with this plan Dean can go back to the motel and sleep for an hour or two without being bothered. It wasn’t like he got any sleep last night thanks to Cas and his fucking mind games.

“Alright then.” He straightens and slaps Sam on the shoulder. Sam looks mildly surprised about the lack of arguments but Dean just barrels right over that. “You call me if you need me. Also, Cas said to pray to him whenever instead of getting hurt so remember that too.”

Shouldn’t have brought up Cas. Damn, something inside Dean hurts now and he doesn’t even know what.

Sam just nods and Dean takes that for an answer, already pushing through the crowd. Carl greets him but he barely gives the man a nod. Fuck he’s fed up with this town and everyone in it. He knows that’s Cas’ fault but doesn’t care, his emotions feel valid and he’s sticking to that.

 

 

They barely have enough for the scrying and technically they should have something from the person or whatever they’re scrying for and they don’t so it’s probably not going to be very effective. Dean supposes they’ll just have to try. He lets the ingredients soak for a moment and takes the time to change out of his suit and into more comfortable clothes.

He’s barely in his jeans and t-shirt when there’s a knock on the door. Gun at the ready he cracks opens the door, only to be greeted with Cas’ stupid face. Great, just what he needs right now. He huffs and contemplates just shutting the door again but Cas is looking right at him and he looks so goddamn pleased to see Dean.

“Back to using the door, I see.” He mutters and walks off, leaving it open for Cas.

The angel gets inside and closes the door firmly, making Dean very aware that they’re alone in the room again. Only this time it’s not the fun kind of aware. Although come to think of it, last time wasn’t so fun either…

“Where’s Sam?”

“With Sandra, he’s guarding her but don’t worry, he’s got the bronze knife and everything.”

Cas nods and comes to stand directly in front of Dean and what the fuck? If he’s going to try any of that bullshit again Dean’s going to thump him. Cas just stares at him and don’t ask Dean why he’s not moving away because there’s no real good reason not to and yet here he stands, like a complete moron. All he does is averts his eyes and Cas makes a soft sound.

“I hurt you.”

Well fuck. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Whatever the fuck that was in the forest is… is just _not_ , okay?” Dean tries to look menacing. “It didn’t happen.”

“But it did.”

Dean’s whole body trembles and he feels hot. Feels the hotness spread out from his stomach and to all of his limbs, his groin tingling. The way Cas just deadpans shit like this is too much for Dean to handle right now.

“Fine.” He spits and walks away, arms crossed over his chest to protect himself, his back to Cas. “It happened but we’re not talking about it, obviously.” Cas could at least have _called_ or something.

Anything other than having him come over when Sam was around before he and Dean had had a chance to… well to do fucking _anything_ about this goddamn clusterfuck that Cas initiated. Because that’s on Cas. No way in hell is Dean taking blame for what happened in the forest. Sure, he might have been thinking about it, in a completely abstract way, since Purgatory but that’s not the same as fucking pushing someone against a tree and almost kissing them.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas’ voice is deep and it sends a pleasurable spike down Dean’s spine for some fucking reason. “I don’t know how to handle this situation very well. I should have talked to you before just coming over.”

Dean spins around, face flushed and not only from anger. “Damn right you should’ve.”

Cas is on him in an instant, warm hands cupping Dean’s face and nose almost touching Dean’s. Fucking hell, Dean’s so stunned he can do nothing but blink.

“Human emotions are intricate.” Cas breathes in a low rumble. “I have yet to master even a single one. But I do know that you incite almost every one of the good ones in me.”

“Holy fuck.” Dean squeaks and Cas smiles gently.

“Something along those lines, yes.”

The first touch of their lips is a barely there brush and it’s abundantly clear that Cas is waiting for Dean to push him away. And he _should_ , but he doesn’t.

Instead he moans at the back of his throat, hungrily and deeply, grabbing hold of Cas’ lapels and pulling the angel even closer. They stumble together, knees knocking, and Cas snakes his arms around Dean to hold him tight.

There’s no preamble this time, no will he/won’t he? Cas is pushing, eager for it and Dean equally so, if not more. His whole body tingles and his dick wakes up so fast it’s almost painful when it twitches in his tight jeans. Every sound reasoning against this flies out the window and when Dean slides back, pulling on Cas’ coat, the angel follows smoothly.

Dean’s moan is more guttural as he sits down on the small couch and Cas climbs into his lap. Fuck yeah, Cas is fucking made for Dean’s lap. He fits himself seamlessly against Dean and when he rolls his hips down their clothed erections brush together.

“Fuck.” Dean breathes, hugging Cas closer as he ruts up against the angel. “Fuck you feel so good.”

Cas fits his face against the side of Dean’s neck and this time there’s no question, he’s definitely licking and Dean likes it. He throws his head back, making space and Cas hums in delight, hips rolling against Dean’s just as he noses up to Dean’s ear, nipping at the ear lobe.

Dean’s dick jumps when a powerful wave of arousal goes through him, sending pinpricks down his whole side. Cas groans and his thighs lock around Dean’s legs. Goddamn, the angel’s ass feels perfect in Dean’s hands. Round and plump but also so firm and Dean can’t wait to be inside him. What kind of noises would Cas make as Dean fucks him? Breathless, Dean hopes.

“Dean.” Cas rumbles in a hoarse voice. “I want you.”

“Fuck yeah, angel.”

Cas snags Dean’s hair in one hand, breathing hotly against his cheek as he drags his mouth over to Dean’s. “Want you to wreck me, make me keen for you.”

Dean closes his eyes, letting the arousal wash over him. He’s massaging Cas’ ass now, one globe in each hand and fingers pressing as much against the crack as Cas’ pants allow. They roll together, bodies getting hotter and hotter and Dean wants to be naked, wants his dick against Cas’ ass and wants the angel’s dick rutting against his stomach. Hell, Dean’s never been into men before but he’s been around and he knows about heteroflexibility and he doesn’t fucking _care_.

All he cares about is that Cas is in his lap, they’re kissing again and Cas is making delicious sounds.

“Want you so fucking bad, Cas.” He moans, dick leaking precome with every fucking roll of their hips.

“You have me, Dean.” Cas gasps, Dean swallowing it eagerly. “I just want one thing.”

“Anything, Cas.” Dean’s two fucking seconds away from ripping open the angel’s pants so he goddamn hopes whatever it is that Cas wants is easy. He grunts when Cas grabs his hair even harder, holding him still as he dominates the kissing suddenly. Dean feels his mouth fill with something, not saliva, and he panics for a second, eyes wide as he stares into Cas’ sparkling blue eyes. But then he swallows and the whole world kind of mellows out, Cas’ face the only thing in focus.

When Cas pulls out of the kiss it’s like he’s pulled a limb away with him and Dean whines pathetically. He tries to follow but Cas pushes him back, smirking and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I want you to kill your little brother Sam.”

He says this as he bears down on Dean’s dick and Dean’s whole body arches off the couch. His every fiber is screaming for Cas, needing the angel’s touches and approval.

“Aft-after…”

Cas grabs Dean’s face, fingers digging as he smushes Dean’s cheek. “No.” Cas’ eyes glint maliciously. “Now.”

With that he climbs off Dean’s lap and Dean’s left feeling devastated. He makes a strange yowling noise and lurches to his feet, reaching for the angel. Fucking hell he hurts without Cas in his arms. He wants the angel, _needs_ him, and hell if killing Sam is the only thing he needs to do then—

There’s a _thwump_ and suddenly a second Cas stands in the room. Dean’s heart thumps wildly and the first Cas looks scared for some reason.

“Dean, what’s going on?” the second Cas rubs his fingers against his left temple. “Your soul is screaming for me, I can’t—”

He breaks off when he looks up and his eyes land on the first Cas. Dean can’t really understand what’s going on except this is fucking awesome because now there’s two and Dean’s always wanted a threesome with gorgeous twins.

The first Cas gives him a strangely disgusted look and then sneers at the second Cas. “It’s the siren. Kill it, Dean.”

Dean launches himself at the second Cas without thought but he just steps to the side, smooth as a motherfucker, and takes two steps over to the first Cas. He places his hand on the first Cas’ forehead and a white light erupts from his mouth and eyes as the second Cas smites him.

“No!” Dean roars but he’s too slow and by the time he reaches the angels the first Cas drops dead to the floor. A powerful wave of nausea washes over him and he staggers back, sitting down heavily on the couch and grabbing his head.

“Dean.” Cas sits beside him, putting two fingers to Dean’s temple. A new wave goes through him, this time it’s the angel’s grace and it leaves Dean feeling much better and slightly aroused for some fucked up reason. “How are you?”

Dean grunts and flails his hand a bit. To his surprise Cas catches it in his and the action makes Dean look up to see Cas staring at him with concern.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Cas’ eyes soften and he smiles a little, leaning back against the couch. “It seems the siren targeted you, I suspect it’s been doing so over a number of days now.” He looks down at the corpse of himself (Dean can barely look at it, it’s too life-like). “Maybe because you were closing in on it, it decided to act and infected you with its venom.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck he’s been so _stupid_. Of course Cas wouldn’t come here just to spend time with Dean and of course they would never end up doing something like… like fucking _making out_.

“Do sirens mind-control their victims even before the venom?” he asks in a rasp. He feels Cas moving a little beside him but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I can’t remember.”

“Actually I think they only read minds and find what’s in your heart’s desire.”

“That’s fucking poetic.” Dean mutters. Cas’ hand is still holding his and while that feels nice Dean’s too fucking aware of the fact that he was kissing who he thought was Cas on this very couch not five minutes ago and judging by Cas’ explanation of sirens he did it of his own free will.

“I’m glad you called out to me.” Cas says suddenly and Dean pops his eyes open. “It could have ended very badly.”

Dean doesn’t argue that but holy hell, are they still really avoiding the elephant in the room?

“Cas, are we gonna talk about the fact that the siren took _your_ appearance to target _me_?”

“Oh.” Cas looks down at their joined hands and is that a fucking _smug_ expression on the angel’s face? “I didn’t think you’d want to talk about it at all.” Yes it is! He’s fucking _smug_ about this and Dean can’t believe this is happening.

The last few days come crashing over Dean and he feels fucking _exhausted_. First Purgatory and now this? Fuck this shit, Dean is so done with all this emotional crap.

“How many times have you been in Tisdale?”

Cas looks surprised by the question. “Two times, this included.”

“So it was the siren out in the forest, huh?”

“If you met with me in a forest then yes, that was the siren.”

Dean drags his free hand down his face, groaning. “So what fucking started the gears in my head wasn’t even you? I should’ve figured, your lips don’t get blue from a little cold.”

“Dean.” Cas looks concerned again when Dean glances over at him. “When you say ‘all this’, what exactly are you referring to? I know I haven’t been around much lately but if you miss my company this much I will try and remedy that.”

Dean just stares for a moment. Oh right, when Cas got here the siren had already climbed off Dean’s lap. So unless Cas happened to spot Dean’s boner then he might not even know what they were doing before he got here. What a fucking great way out of this, Dean can just pretend that what Cas said right now is true. After all, last time Dean was the target of a siren, it took the form of someone Dean would have wanted as a friend or brother, because he was missing the trust between him and Sam. So it’s not super far-fetched to think that the siren took Cas’ shape because Dean misses his friend.

He opens his mouth, so fucking prepared to agree with Cas but when the angel looks at him, all trusting and shit, Dean’s lies all fly out of the window. Fucking _emotions_.

“It took your shape to seduce me, Cas. Sexually.” He says in a low voice, acutely aware that they’re _still_ holding hands and that their hands are resting on Cas’ thigh. “Because I am attracted to you but I’ve been suppressing it. I guess it made me an easy target.”

Cas’ eyes are very round and he looks spooked for a moment. “Oh.”

“Yeah, so I’m sor—”

“That’s very good.”

Dean stares, disbelieving, as Cas fiddles with their joined hands. “What?”

“Because when I felt you longing for me just now I experienced great pleasure.” He says with a small smile. “And when I saw the siren so close to you I experienced great jealousy, similar to how I felt about Benny in Purgatory.”

Dean’s body zings with sudden and fresh arousal. His movements feel sluggish but fuck it, he’s doing this. Cas’ stubble feels surprisingly soft to the touch and the angel turns his head willingly when Dean cups his cheek.

“Cas, we were making out on this couch just before you arrived.” He looks into Cas’ eyes, willing the angel to see the desire the siren has stirred. “Me and the siren, only I thought…” he sees in Cas’ eyes that the angel understands but fuck, the words need to be said anyway. “I thought it was you. I want _you_.”

There’s a moments pause and Dean thinks that it’s too much, he pushed too far too fast and Cas is going to leave him again. His heart thuds dully and he leans in slightly, as if to kiss the angel. The movement prompts a soft sound from Cas and suddenly he launches forward, hand squeezing Dean’s really tight as he smacks their lips together.

“Always, Dean.” Cas pants out between kisses. “I have _always_ —” he groans when Dean let’s his hand slide back to cup the back of Cas’ head so he can deepen the kiss.

It’s uncoordinated and it’s very obvious to Dean that this is Cas’ first time kissing, at least in this vessel and in a long time. And fuck yeah, this is what it should be like kissing his angel. All soft sounds and Cas craning his head when Dean cups his face with both hands, letting Dean dominate the kiss. Pleasure shoots through Dean’s body, reviving his hard-on and when he pulls on Cas, the angel follows seamlessly.

“Dean…” Cas gasps when Dean turns to kiss down the side of his neck. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Do you feel good?”

Cas’ body shudders when Dean puts his hand over the angel’s obvious erection. “Yes.” He rasps. “Please don’t stop.”

“I got you.” Fucking hell, just saying those words to Cas in this kind of situation is setting Dean on fire.

He wants so much in that moment and Cas is loose and pliant enough that Dean thinks he wants it too. But as soon as he cracks his eyes open the gorgeous visage of an aroused Cas is ruined by the sight of the dead Cas on the floor. Dean swallows with a click and puts his fingers on Cas’ lips when the angel leans in for a new kiss.

“Dean?”

God, he sounds all _worried_. Dean stands up and pulls Cas with him. “Let’s get on the bed instead. I want you Cas, and I wanna touch you, but I can’t do it while dead you lies there with his eyes burnt out.”

“I’ll fix that.” Cas says and lets go of Dean to crouch beside the corpse. In the next moment he’s gone, a slight gust of wind the only evidence of his mighty wings.

Dean smiles to himself and draws a shuddering breath. Are they really doing this? He looks at the bed and feels the arousal burn hot in his body. Fuck yes they are.

He’s just removed his jeans when Cas returns, soaked to the bone.

“The fuck?” Dean laughs and reaches to drag his fingers through Cas’ wet hair, flattening it back and damn, that’s a good look on him. “Where’d you put it?”

“The Marina Trench.”

Cas blinks water out of his eyes and Dean can’t fucking help it, okay? Cas looks so fucking good all drenched like this and Dean _has to_ kiss him again. Cas moans low when their lips connect and Dean eagerly licks off the salty water before pushing inside Cas’ mouth to taste the angel himself.

They rock together for a moment, Cas’ wet clothes soaking Dean’s t-shirt but he doesn’t care about that. Not when he can feel Cas’ hard dick rubbing against his own and fuck yeah, this time it’s Cas for real. No more tricks, right?

Dean pulls out of the kiss, Cas looking hazily at him. “Cas.” He murmurs, thumb rubbing along Cas’ sharp jaw. “Tell me it’s really you. I can’t fucking deal with getting cheated again.”

Cas smiles softly and lifts his hand, putting two fingers against Dean’s temple. Just like when he’d helped Dean get rid of the venom earlier, Cas lets his grace flow through Dean but this time it’s more of a soft touch. A warm wave that washes through him and making Dean feel all gooey inside.

“It’s me, Dean.”

Dean’s so fucking hard he can barely breathe for fear of creaming his underwear but at the moment the strongest feeling is fucking _affection_ , of all things.

“Can we get on the bed?”

“I don’t really know what to do in a situation like this.” There’s just a hint of shyness in Cas’ tone and Dean smiles at him.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, okay? I just had a fucking scare right after I realized it’s okay for me to want you; I just wanna hold you.”

Cas shrugs out his grace, a wave going through him and making him dry, before he starts undressing. “If it wouldn’t be too much I think I would like to do a little more than that.”

Dean laughs and rests back on the pillows on the bed, still in his underwear and t-shirt. “I’m not saying no to that.”

Cas nods and climbs on the bed when he’s down to his undershirt and underwear. “It felt very good when you touched my dick.” He deadpans and the way he says it isn’t very sexy but fuck if Dean’s body doesn’t light up anyway.

He pulls the angel closer as soon as Cas is on the bed and this time when they kiss there’s more urgency in it. Lips sliding together, tongues battling, and when Cas moans deeper than before Dean’s brain fucking melts.

He presses a hand against Cas’ dick and Cas bucks into the touch. He breaks the kiss with a surprised sound and turns to look down between them. Dean just noses against Cas’ soft hair and continues to grind the heel of his hand along Cas’ whole length.

“I-I’m losing strength.” Cas whispers in a rasp.

Dean’s dick jumps and by now he’s leaked so much precome that his underwear sticks to the head of his dick. But fuck that, all his attention is on Cas now. He wants the angel to feel good about this, about them, about himself.

“Just let go, Cas.” He murmurs and Cas surprises him by lifting his head again, coming in for a new kiss.

His hands are clenched in Dean’s t-shirt, anchoring them and Dean loves it. Sure, the siren version of Cas being all in charge had been sexy as fuck but this is even better. Because this is _his_ Cas. His Cas gasping into the kisses, his Cas bucking his hips into Dean’s touches. It makes everything feverish and Dean loves it. He feels like he’s on fire and he wants to get off so badly but more than that he wants to see the rapture on Cas’ face when he comes.

“Dean.” Cas gasps when Dean squeezes his dick harder. “I want to touch you too.”

“ _Fuck_ yeah, Cas.” Dean groans. They shuffle even closer on the bed, Dean’s movements jerky with how aroused he is. The pleasure is sharp now, almost painful but so, so good. “You can do whatever the fuck you want with me.”

Cas moans and pulls on Dean, rolling to his back and dragging Dean with him so that Dean ends up with his thigh between Cas’ legs.

“Like this?” Cas asks, breathless and Dean just nods before kissing him again.

Fuck yeah, just like this is perfect. Cas has a strong thigh between Dean’s legs as well and when Dean rolls his hips their hard dicks drag together, sending sparks flying behind Dean’s eyes. Cas grabs at Dean’s flanks and Dean rises on his elbows, one hand cradling Cas’ head as they kiss, their bodies moving in a smooth wave.

The build is almost painful in its intensity. Dean wants to continue this forever, wants to stay at the edge of orgasm and just ride the pleasure but fuck, he can’t hope to hold on now. He’s too far gone and Cas is making all the right noises.

“Cas, you _gotta_ …” he leans in to plant his face against Cas’ racing pulse. “I need to feel you come.”

“Oh Dean.” Cas moans, head thrown back and his body convulses a moment later. Tight as a bow string, he arches his back and digs his nails in against Dean’s shoulder as his dick erupts in his underwear. He comes so much that it seeps through and it’s so fucking _warm_.

Dean groans and slows his rolling to a grind, enjoying pushing through Cas’ come and smearing it on them. Cas melts down against the bed, a dopey smile on his lips and Dean would laugh if he wasn’t just about to come himself.

“Cas.” He shudders out the angel’s name and Cas lifts his hands to hug Dean close, one hand around his back and the other on his head.

“This is perfect, Dean.”

Dean comes with a hoarse shout, his whole body locking as his dick jumps and spurts out string after string of warm wetness. It mixes with Cas’ and Dean can’t stop grinding as soon as he’s unlocked his muscles. Cas keeps hugging him and he spreads his legs, letting Dean come between them when Dean kisses him again.

“That was fucking huge, Cas.” Dean mumbles after a moment, smiling when he sees how big Cas’ grin is.

“My body won’t cooperate.”

Dean huffs out a laugh and rolls off Cas to end up on his side, looking fondly at the angel. “I dunno what I was so afraid off, it’s just you.”

Cas turns his head, looking at Dean with clear affection. “It’s just me.” He repeats and Dean takes comfort in that.

“When you came here you acted like normal.” He mumbles after a while, the emotions huge and scary but he’s getting over that. “I was hurt as fuck.”

Cas frowns. “The siren had already done something to you and you thought I was pretending it didn’t happen.”

Fuck, Cas’ guesses have always been too on the money but Dean likes it now. “Yeah.”

Cas takes Dean’s hand again, pulling it up to kiss his knuckles. “I assure you, I will never ignore something like this, unless it’s what you want.”

Somehow Dean just knows Cas is asking if he wants to keep this from Sam. And the thing is, he doesn’t. But they have a lot of things going on with the hell gates and maybe they should ease him into this development. Dean’s sure Sam is going to be super okay with it but he has a tendency to get all touchy-feely and Dean wants to save those moments for Cas, at least in the beginning.

“I really don’t. We’ll just take it slow, Cas. This is our thing.” He says, smiling widely and Cas’ eyes twinkle. He opens his mouth to answer but gets interrupted when the motel room’s door opens.

“So get this.” Sam says cheerily. “Sandra just snapped out of her Gale haze, I think the siren must be dead or—oh my God, my _eyes_! What the fuck, Dean?!”

Cas looks like a deer caught in the headlights and Dean thinks he probably has a similar look on his face. He squeezes Cas’ hand hard to prevent him from flying off.

“Uh, so great news about the siren, huh?”

Sam’s bitchface tells Dean he’s never going to live this down.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand case closed lol  
> I mean, for Tisdale the nightmare is hardly over... but the boys know the siren is dead and Dean got his Cas so... Case closed! *jazz hands*


End file.
